Over the next few weeks/months, you can read about a group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact…and for one night only…you can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6]

Ashok had been true to his word and had found an unused lock-up garage that his friend was allowing him to use. It was quite a fair size and although the lighting was quite dim, it was enough for the guys to get by. Raj had just finished setting up the equipment when Ramesh walked in hurriedly and almost tripped over some cabling.

“Hey, what’s the rush?” asked Ashok.

“It was hard to find this place. It’s not exactly what I would call convenient”, Ramesh was almost out of breath.

“It’s free…so it’s convenient”, retorted Ashok. “Have you been running or something?”

“I’ve never been here before and there’s a lot of dodgy looking people out there”.

“And that’s just the women”, Ashok said with a smile. “Relax man…you’re with me now, so it’s cool”.

Ramesh gazed over the interior and nodded. He looked over to the equipment that Raj was standing proudly beside. “Where did you get that stuff from?” He sounded alarmed.

“I know it’s not ultra modern…but it’ll get us going”, Raj said.

“Don’t worry. I can get some decent stuff soon”, Ashok said confidently.

Raj and Ramesh looked at each other and exchanged glances. In the back of their minds they were both thinking the same thing – Ashok wasn’t all he appeared. However, neither of them wanted to make too much of it, after all he had got them some space to practice in and he did now seem genuinely enthused with the project.

“So what do we do?” Ramesh said taking off his jacket.

“Well I just thought we could get an idea of what we can all do”. Raj started to turn on the equipment and was rummaging through some cassettes.

“We need a name”, said Ashok. “A good name will set us off right”.

“I was thinking about that as well”, joined Ramesh. “How about Asian Mix?”

“We’re a group…not a starter dish”, Ashok said. “No man…we need something more with the times. Something about our roots, about ethnics”, he paused. “How about, Ethnics on the Technics? That way we get in who we are and we might also get in some sponsorship from Technics”.

Raj shook his head. “That might be alright if we were a bunch of deejays at a wedding…but we’re going to be more than that”.

“But what exactly…I’m still not clear what we’re going to be doing”, Ramesh said.

“Listen”. Raj started a tape and after a pause, there was the musical accompaniment of ‘Suspicious Minds’. Raj started singing ala Elvis, and even threw in some of the hip movements.

Ramesh and Ashok looked at each other in dismay.

The garage was at the end of a row of four and had an alleyway running down one side. The street was just as dimly lit as the garage and there were only a few streetlights and the occasional headlight from a passing vehicle. The music could just about be heard within a few feet of the outside.

There was some movement in the alleyway and the sound of a dustbin being knocked over. The dustbin lid rolled out in front of the garage and Bernie appeared from the shadows to retrieve it. He scurried back into the alley, just as a passer-by was approaching. The passer-by stopped at the garage and looked around.

In the light, it was just possible to see that it was Sanjay. He pressed his ear to the garage door and listened intently. After a few seconds he moved away, took another look around and carried on walking down the street. Bernie appeared briefly from the shadows and watched him walk away, before lurking back into the alley.

Watching all this, from the comfort of his Mini a few yards down the road was Detective Harris. He had followed Ashok a few minutes earlier and was now fascinated by the hive of activity around the garage. First, the passer-by and then the man in the alley. Very suspicious, he thought to himself. If this proved to be the centre of the operation from where the warehouse raids were masterminded, then he was surely in line for a promotion.

He carried on watching and took a bite out of his cheese and pickle sandwich.

Inside the garage, there was certainly no hint of any masterminds. Raj had just finished his Elvis piece and was looking at the other two for some comments.

“That was…interesting”, said Ramesh.

“Yeah, it was”, added Ashok. “But what exactly does it have to do with what we’re here for?”

“Don’t you see”, Raj put the microphone down. “I’m Elvis. You’re Mohammed Rafi and you’re Stevie Wonder. We could do all the songs as one band. Imagine what it would be like”.

“It’d be damn stupid, that’s what it would be”, Ashok dismissed.

“I’m going to have to agree with Ashok on this one”, said Ramesh. “I can’t really see a call for a look-alike band of Asians, who just about look like the person they are meant to.”

Raj looked a little dis-heartened. “Come on guys. With a bit of make up and sharp costumes we could do this”.

“I was thinking more like just doing our own thing, you know”. Ashok took to centre stage and found a Jackson 5 track, ‘I Want You Back’. He placed it in the tape and Michael Jackson’s voice erupted around the garage. Ashok started to dance feverishly – but in rhythm to the sound. After a few seconds, Ramesh attempted to join in but could not keep up with the pace. Ashok stopped, smiled and waited for a reaction.

“But that’s just dancing”, said Raj. “You may as well be in a disco”.

“I think we’re going about this the wrong way”, Ramesh said philosophically. “We need to find a common ground”.

One hour later, the three of them were sitting on the floor of the garage, seemingly depressed and angry. Raj made the first move. “Let’s go home and sleep on it. Maybe one of us will get some inspiration about what the hell we’re meant to be doing”.

The other two nodded their agreement and they picked up their jackets and headed for the side door.

As they emerged, Harris slid down the seat of his car to try and keep out of sight. He watched the three of them make their way to a parked Ford Cortina. They all got in and after a few seconds the engine started and the car moved off down the street. Harris watched them go, looked at the garage and then started his car. He followed the Ford
Cortina at a safe distance.

Bernie had watched the guys leave and was now scratching away at the side door. He managed to pick the lock and then the padlock. He swung the door open and quickly moved inside. He fumbled for a light switch and then closed the door. He looked at the dated equipment and shook his head with a hint of a smile. Looking around the garage he saw a hammer and picked it up and then moved menacingly towards the equipment. He didn’t feel completely comfortable with what he was about to do, but Malkit had given him a fair amount of money, so he was obliged to carry it out.

He raised the hammer and was about to bring it crashing down on the tape deck, when something caught his eyes. He slowly bent over the pile of records and tapes that were at his feet and picked one up. It was an album by The Temptations. Bernie looked admiringly at the sophisticated men on the sleeve cover.

They all had gleaming suits, polished shoes and shining teeth. It took Bernie back to a part of his life which he had thought was lost to him. He smiled and put the record down on to the turntable and placed the needle on it. The soothing opening bars of ‘Just My Imagination’ started to play and Bernie started to rummage through the remainder of the records.

The guys were about a mile away from the garage when Ramesh realised that he must have dropped his keys somewhere in the garage. Reluctantly, Raj turned the car around and headed back to the garage.

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This serial is fictional and any similarity with existing groups or individuals is unintentional.
Ravi Mangat is contactable on: rav38man@yahoo.co.uk